Trust Is for the Weak, But
by Katkero
Summary: Daz and Crocodile have a short discussion on the return of the Straw Hats. It gets awkward.


On mornings like this, made up entirely of blue and green and the burning red eye of the sun, it was easy to forget the monsters hiding under the surface. Admiring the view, Crocodile exhaled and added his own touch to the stillness. Grey wisps of smoke writhed on a wind that was still gathering strength for the storms of the day. It was a rare moment of peace and quiet in the usual New World bedlam.

The sound of a page being turned didn't bother him; the company made up for it. Daz finished reading the article and folded the newspaper, offering it back to Crocodile. Declining with a wave of his hand, Crocodile glanced at his first mate. "What do you think?"

"They've certainly made quite an impact in such a short time, attracting impostors," Daz said, stating the obvious of course, but sometimes it was just good to hear him talk. He unfolded the paper to have another look at the man who had somehow managed to fool so many stronger pirates. What he saw didn't seem to impress him. "Not very high quality, though. Even the real Straw Hat has too much sense to attempt something like this."

Crocodile grinned. "Even so... like father, like son." Not much went past him, but he missed the flash of worry in his first mate's eyes. Luffy's father was not someone to be insulted on this ship, and the crew would normally extend that to Luffy as well – usually Crocodile didn't make his opinions known to anyone beside Daz, but the rest of the crew wouldn't have survived so long with him without a good combination of intuition and common sense. _Dragon's son. Leave it to Exposition Sengoku to tell us something even that old queen didn't know... might have given us a running commentary while he was at it._ Not that Crocodile was offended for being left in the dark about that, of course. Roger's son made a very good example for why it was a good idea to keep that kind of secret. _I wonder what would have happened if I had known in Alabasta._ Possibly all of it. Alabasta was an important project, but it was also important to Straw Hat Luffy. For someone who could twist his neck 360 degrees... probably 360 times... Luffy's head was notoriously difficult to turn.

The sudden laugh seemed to startle Daz. This time Crocodile noticed. It briefly occurred to him that Daz had managed to squeeze himself quite far past his defences for him to even care. "So Dragon's brat is on his way! It will probably be too much to hope for that idiot crew not to wreak any havoc on Fishman Island." And, unsaid: _Whatever they do, it probably ends up helping the revolution. How proud you must be, Dragon._

"I wonder if his first mate did end up learning to cut diamond," Daz muttered, trying to look unfazed but clearly relieved that the laughter wasn't a sign of something sinister.

"Diamond?" Crocodile turned his eyes down to the ones decorating the rings on his fingers.

"Ah, he... since he already learned to cut steel, I wondered... I asked him if he was aiming even higher than that." Although Crocodile couldn't see him, Daz gave off that sense of watching his captain carefully. "After he defeated me."

"You've been chatting with the enemy?"

At that, Daz went tense again. There was no need to look at him to confirm that. His worry hung in the air like a red cloth, and Crocodile had to wonder if he really was that quick to lash out in anger to make even his first mate tiptoe around him.

Well... he probably was. Or had been. Couldn't possibly be as bad as all the way back in Alabasta, though, right? They were a crew now, not the traitor hero of the realm and his collection of colourful but expendable underlings. The wheat had been separated from the chaff and cutting down valuable allies for small annoyances was wasteful. Didn't Daz realise that? There was supposed to be some... no, not trust. That sort of thing just brought ruin and failure. That thing that functioned a bit like trust but fit into the way Crocodile saw the world. They were supposed to have built some of that by now.

"Anyway," Daz started, "if that was all..."

"That wasn't all." From the corner of his eye, Crocodile saw the man lick his lips nervously. This wasn't going anywhere. "Cigar?" He fished the gilded box out of its pocket and flicked the lid open. These were the expensive ones that no one was to touch lest he wish to get a taste o' the cat next. Crocodile reflected on his attitude towards his possessions for a moment. Sometimes growing up without them really didn't make you nobler, he concluded. "It's all right. Take one of the ones without the cap, I cut them just before the paper arrived."

Hesitating, Daz extended a hand towards the box with ridiculous care, as if afraid he might knock it into the water. Eventually, he was able to bring himself to pick up one outrageously expensive cigar and put it between his lips. As though the damn thing was more valuable than he was.

"Actually," Crocodile said, spitting the remains of his previous cigar into the sea, "give me one of those too."

Daz took out another one and held it up for his captain to bite on. With the cigar secured between his teeth, Crocodile closed the lid and slipped the box back in his coat pocket. His hand came back out holding a lighter. _Probably should light his first since I'm treating him._ There was a flicker of flame, and soon smoke filled the air again. Crocodile tasted it leisurely, letting it swirl inside his mouth. Worth every beli. He noticed Daz still smoking his cigar carefully, clearly not used to such luxuries.

"We'll most likely run into them soon," Crocodile thought aloud. "These seas become surprisingly small when you get powerful enough."

"The crew might be hostile to us, though."

"The crew obeys its captain." Crocodile frowned. "If Marineford in any way changed how the captain sees us, that is. "

Daz cleared his throat. "And if we are still their enemies?"

"If they attack us, we fight them. That's a pirate's life for you." The boy's father wouldn't have the right to shout at Crocodile afterwards if his brat attacked first, right? "If they don't... well, I suppose that's one more rival for us."

"Then again, Straw Hat doesn't seem like the type to hold grudges when situations change."

"I guess so." Of course, Crocodile wasn't particularly worried about the prospect of fighting Luffy again. Last time he had allowed anger to overpower himself and cloud his judgement. "It's a strange thing about him, though..." he said, mostly talking to himself. Three times they had fought against each other, and once together as temporary allies. He figured he knew something about Straw Hat Luffy by now. "He's strong, but he's not cruel." A small amount of ash fell off the tip of his cigar and was taken by the wind. His eyes weren't able to follow the tiny black specks for long. "I don't... understand that."

When he noticed his words were falling into an awkward silence, he became aware of just how much he had said in just two sentences. He who always had his guard raised, and now he had gone and blasted that guard open in front of someone who would not say anything about it but certainly had the intellect to reflect on it. All these years on these seas, and still Crocodile was capable of disappointing himself.

"Mm." If Daz was going to offer anything more insightful, it was interrupted by his gag reflex, followed by a violent coughing fit. He looked like he was doing his best to pull himself together, but couldn't stop. Crocodile was mildly impressed to notice he still managed to keep his cigar at an arm's length to put it out of harm's reach.

"Did you get smoke in your lungs? It's different from cigarettes, makes you nauseous," Crocodile explained. Surely Daz knew that much without having to be told, but it was one way to change the topic.

"It's just that I'm not used..." Daz coughed, bravely trying to spit out words rather than pieces of his lungs, "...not used to smoking... made a novice mistake..."

"Ah..." That was certainly true. Crocodile had figured it would be all right, though, since you weren't supposed to inhale cigar smoke – not that he didn't sometimes do that, but his lungs had stopped complaining years ago. "You could have refused that, you know."

Putting all of his strength into one final cough, Daz regained control over his protesting body. His voice was a little raw, but even. "No, it's all right." There was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It's an honour. I'll be more careful."

Crocodile nodded, taking note of the rising wind. Their quiet little moment would soon have to end as the ocean awoke from its rare slumber. No matter... the air between the men at least seemed a little clearer now. "If you say so."

…

There's no action like interaction, eh? I'm not saying I don't look forward to Fishman Island, but I'm just about dying to see how Crocodile is doing after the timeskip – just to be on the safe side, I should mention this is all my speculation, including the line implying poverty in Croc's past. His revolutionary connection is a fairly popular fandom theory, though.


End file.
